


An Uncommon Bond

by Ihopeitsbenign



Category: Common Law
Genre: Complete, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-24
Updated: 2014-01-24
Packaged: 2018-01-09 20:41:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,898
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1150577
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ihopeitsbenign/pseuds/Ihopeitsbenign
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What happens when Travis comes home without his wedding ring. Established Wesvis.</p>
            </blockquote>





	An Uncommon Bond

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I have no affiliation to Common Law or its characters. This is fiction pure and simple.

Wes stood naked in front of the full-length mirror. Fresh from the hot shower he examined his flushed body from head to foot, back to front. Since quitting the Police Force to become a full time dad he worried that he'd let himself go but no matter how closely he checked there wasn't an ounce of fat on him. He glanced at the bedside clock to ensure he was still on time. He was. Dressing slowly he pulled on the sky blue shirt and dark gray suit leaving the collar open to show a bit of skin. The extra care he took was meant to entice his husband.

It had been almost three weeks since they'd had sex. Three weeks. There was a time when they couldn't have gone three hours without touching, now it had been three weeks. Wes would deny it to the ends of the earth to anyone that asked but here alone in their big house, he could admit that he was worried. Something was off between the two of them. They were losing their spark or whatever it was that made them, them. Between Erich's viral infection and Travis heading up a new task force, the little time they had together always ended up with one or both of them passed out from sheer exhaustion.

Tonight would be different. Alex was babysitting Erich and the gang that had been terrorizing the city had been busted. Tonight was date night. It was a chance for them to reconnect, to…fuck poetry! Tonight he was getting laid.

Fully dressed Wes checked the clock again 7:20, perfect; he could get a drink while he waited, Travis being Travis he would be at least thirty minutes late. He strolled out of the bedroom and down the stairs. The snifter was in his hand as he twirled the amber liquid round when the key rattled in the lock. Travis was early. Resisting the urge to run over and jump into his arms, he placed the glass on the nearest table and turned.

"You're early." He drawled at the sight of his husband.

"Shut up." Travis grumbled affectionately as he strode across the floor taking him in his arms. "I've missed you."

They kissed, hot and sweet, tongues dueling for dominance. Impatient they rubbed against each other, hands exploring. All thought of their dinner reservation flew out of Wes' head, he stumbled back Travis' mouth sucking at his neck. His calves hit the couch and he collapsed to fat cushions gazing up at his dark lover.

"Erich?" Travis demanded.

"Alex" He answered.

Palming his painfully swollen erection, Wes watched Travis pull off his shirt exposing miles of caramel skin topped by two pointy bits of chocolate. Delicious. Helpless in the face of such temptation he panted when Travis kicked his thighs further apart and knelt between them. His hands were slapped aside and he thrust his groin at that smirking face. The things Travis could do with his mouth…he practically came out of his skin when Travis ripped open his belt and unzipped him. A nagging thought began to hammer at his brain, blighting his all consuming arousal.

'What was it?' He attempted to clear his head of its lusty fog, opening his eyes from the slit to which they'd fallen. A pale strip of skin immediately caught his attention and he froze, erection dwindling. He grabbed the offending hand shaking it in front of the owner's face.

"Where is your wedding ring?" He demanded. Travis stared at him before settling on a blinding smile meant to distract him.

"It's a funny story. You're gonna laugh."

"I doubt that and if the name Nina comes out of your mouth." Wes referenced Travis' new partner. "I will hurt you."

"Maybe it's not that funny."

"Where is it?"

"I left it in my locker at the station."

"Why was it off?"

Travis jumped up, pulling on his shirt. "I will not stand here and be interrogated."

Impassive Wes watched his little performance. He refused to dwell on how hurt he felt that something so important to him was easy for Travis to dismiss. "Then you can sit and be interrogated. Either way I'm getting some answers."

The subsequent argument went round and round in circles awakening every half-baked argument they'd ever had. It touched on every point in their lives. From the mundane;

"You wanted to quit. I supported your decision to become a househusband."

"Fuck you Travis, taking care of our son is important."

"I never said it wasn't."

To the downright absurd;

"I let you give my son an Aryan name. If that isn't love I don't know what is."

"It was my grandfather's name." Wes roared back at him. "And there is no way I was letting you name our son Kobe."

Three hours later they parked outside the large house in the affluent suburb that hugged the city. Neither of them willing to give ground, they bickered all the way up the cobbled walkway.

Doctor Ryan was startled from her light doze by a sudden hammering at her front door. It was only at the familiar voice of one of her patients she hurried to open up instead of calling 911.

"Travis, Wesley. How um lovely to see you." She gathered the thin silk robe around her body hoping they would sense her discomfort and save whatever it was for the next group session. That hope was dashed when Travis pushed past her Wes following on his heels. "What is this about?"

"Use your witchy therapist powers and tell him that I am not lying." Travis demanded pointing at his husband. Puzzled she looked back and forth between her favorite mismatched pair.

"I'm supposed to believe everything she says like she's a human polygraph?" Completely ignoring her, the blond still faced his partner. "I am not that dumb. Now answer the fucking question."

"What question?" She stammered struggling to get on top of things. They both turned and stared as she shifted uneasily. "What?"

"We can see through your negligee. That's why he's drooling." Wes gave her a black look as if she'd done it on purpose. She flicked off the table lamp behind her and decided to sit this one out. Ordinarily she could barely control them, now trapped in her home with her hair down so to speak, her authority had been compromised and she was reduced to spectating.

"Me?" Travis raged. "I'm not the one who had a stupid crush on her. You probably still do."

"Don't turn this around. Where – is – the – ring?" Wes ground out.

"We've been married two years. I can't believe you still don't trust me."

"Stop being so damn melodramatic Travis." Wes loomed over him. "Where is the ring?"

Bone-tired Travis finally gave in. "I lost it." He burrowed into the corner of their therapist's couch and braced for his lover's explosion.

"You lost it? YOU LOST IT!"

There it is. Better get all the secrets out while he could. "I have actually lost three rings. Usually I have enough time to get to the jewelers and have it replaced but I was so eager to get home to you today that I forgot."

Apoplectic with rage, Wes' icy blue glare cut through him, his face turning an ugly puce. Thankful that his husband longer carried a gun, Travis checked to make sure Dr. Ryan was still in the room. A witness would come in handy right about now.

"You know what? If you don't have to wear yours then neither do I." Wes yanked the gold band off his finger, slammed it on the coffee table and stormed out.

In a blind panic Travis swept up the ring and chased after him.

"Baby, listen…"

"Don't call me baby." Wes snapped over his shoulder before turning from him and fitting the car keys into the lock.

"Stop" Travis reached around the broad back and held on to his hand keeping the key from turning. "Just stop." He rested his forehead on the other man's nape, his left arm wrapped around his waist. Slowly stroking the flat belly he inhaled deeply savoring the subtle scent that delicately teased his senses. Essence of Wes, to Travis he always smelled like coming home. "I love you." He whispered against his skin. "I only mess with you because the thought that I could ever choose to be with someone else is ridiculous. You and Erich are the first real family I've ever had. I would never do anything to fuck that up." He was gratified to feel the tension leave Wes' body and pressed a light kiss on the side of his neck.

"Then why?"

"Why what?" Travis asked letting him turn around in his arms.

"Why do you keep losing it? I never take mine off."

Travis dropped his head resting it on the strong chest. "To me it's just a piece of metal." He popped up looking his partner in the eye. "I am tied to you in more ways than a mere ring can symbolize. Whether it's on my finger or not, my commitment to you never wavers."

"I still need you to wear it." Wes stubbornly persisted. "Even if it's just a meaningless symbol to you."

"What can I do?" As Wes searched his face he still found a glimmer of mistrust that he was determined to assuage. "I will do whatever you want to make you feel better." Travis held onto him letting him see his sincerity.

In a matter of moments, Travis came to regret that remark with every bit of his being. He'd known better than to give Wes free reign. Swearing repeatedly as the burning pain streaked up and down his hand, he glanced over at his partner who was buried deep in a bloody photo album. "This fucking hurts." He yelled.

"You're fine." Wes dismissed, flipping through some of the artists greatest works. The buzzing started and stopped making it easy to drown out Travis' whining. He only approached the recliner when he was signaled that the work was done.

Leaning over the outstretched hand, he eagerly devoured the brand new wedding 'band' with his eyes. An intricate tattoo circled Travis' ring finger in dark lines that spelled out Wes' name. The sight of it sent a powerful surge of possessive lust blazing down his spine, heat pooling in his groin. "You're mine." He growled.

Catching the wicked gleam in his eyes. Travis whispered. "Kiss it better."

They picked up where they'd left off falling back into hot kisses and roaming hands. Wes held onto his chin licking and sucking at Travis' lips, teasing him with his tongue. With his right hand Travis unbuttoned him slipping his hand onto his hot chest, tweaking a hard pink nipple. Moaning into his mouth Wes climbed onto of the recliner straddling him. They both groaned as their hard cocks mashed together.

The unexpected squeak of a stool being adjusted for optimal viewing alerted them to the tattoo artist's voyeuristic intentions. Caught in the act, the pervy little bastard leered and asked, "Can I watch?" Identical glares cast his way sent him scurrying to the backroom thankful for the cameras he had installed the day before. He watched eagerly squinting at the monitors as the two men cemented their union unaware they were being filmed.

Fin

**Author's Note:**

> "You may be deceived if you trust too much, but you will live in torment if you don't trust enough."
> 
> Frank H. Crane, Writer


End file.
